Saw
by cassie-n-rose
Summary: Takes place between between Saw 1 and 2. Four people find themselves in one of Jigsaw's traps. All of them seem to be guarding a secret about themselves. What are they hiding? Will they be able to trust one another in order to survive? Read and find out.
1. Chapter 1

_______________Dyna's Point of View_______________

My eyes flew open as the sensation of water trickling below the skin of my cheek woke me up. I sat up so fast that the lingering woozy feeling from whatever was in my system hit me harder than ever and I rocked back onto the wall, everything spinning. I was in a round room, I realized, which made this even more unpleasant. As the nausea and dizziness faded, panic set in.

I got to my feet, breathing ragged and harsh, close to continuous shrieking. It would have been if my throat had been in proper working order. It did not take it long for my legs to give way, accompanied by the metallic sound of chain scraping against stone. My hands began to shake uncontrollably and tears poured from my eyes as I took in the sight of my ankle shackled to the dark and damp wall by the thickest chain I'd even seen.

I dry-heaved, nearing convulsions as the moldy scent flooded into my nostrils. After this, I unsteadily crawled over to the wall, sobbing and breathing too fast still. I used the uneven was stones to pull myself to my feet. Once there, my knees weak like they had been filled with water, I turned, pressing my back to the wall in terror. I was not alone…

Across from me lay another woman, her brown hair resembling mine, matted and wet from the water on the floor of our prison. To my left, a man also lay face down. His wispy dark blonde hair was all I could see, and, to my right, my last companion. An obviously older man (closer to the older woman's age maybe…) whose hair was also dark blonde and was, like the others, face down.

I put my fingers to my mouth, whimpering and wondering if I were dead.

As I began to breath fast again, I moved my hands to my head, clutching clumps of hair with my useless fingers. I closed my eyes and sank down to the floor again. It all built up so fast, and everything rushed in on me.

Where was I?

Who were these people?

What had I done?

Who had done this?

My mouth fell open and a helpless screech filled the air, over and over it reverberated against the stone walls all the way to the opening at the top, the only source of light, until I had no more air to make sounds of any kind.

~________________~

It had been at least 30 minutes since I woke up, and I sat shaking (now with cold), my knees pulled to my chest. I clasped my hands desperately, holding myself together on the inside…

My eyes were locked on the man to my left, the younger one. I had almost convinced myself that he was breathing, but I was still too afraid to touch him. My chain was just long enough to reach him if I tried.

Taking a few deep breaths, I slowly uncurled from my fetal position and moved to my hands and knees. Every joint ached as I forced them to work, and moved me toward one of my companions. I slowed as I reached him, silence seeming to press in on me as I reached one hand out toward his body. My fingers stretched forward in apprehension, longing to touch, hoping to keep as far away from him as possible but still feel…

He moved.

I gasped and scrambled backward, my feet on the wet floor and sending water droplets flying.

He looked just as confused, though not nearly as frightened as I had been, on the first sight of his face. His eyes were vivid green, accentuated by his light hair, falling over them on perfect unison, even wet and shaggy. His chin was strong, sitting perfectly between high cheekbones and beneath a strait nose and a mouth made for a crooked smile.

We just seemed to stare at each other for a moment, and I wondered vaguely if he was appraising me as I was him. Surely not. I was nothing special.

Finally, words.

"Where are we?" His deep, even toned voice was such a welcome addition to the drippy echoing sound of my own breathing that had accompanied me until now.

I shook my head, tilting it to the side a bit as my knees automatically came automatically came back to my chest.

"… I don't know."

He looked at me for another moment, and then around us, taking in the surroundings as I had. He reached out and touched a stone in the wall, tracing a spray painted 8 there was on the stone, hos eyes narrowed. I looked around, and at once realized for the first time that we were surrounded by marked stones, all spray painted with an 8 and a letter of the alphabet starting about two feet up from ground level.

He put his hand down, and then noticed the object dangling from his neck at the same time I did. He took it in his long fingers and looked it over.

To my inquiring expression, he said, "It's a tape."

I paused a moment, then moved my hands to my own neck, pulling out my own tape like some gaudy necklace from beneath my navy blue shirt.

We looked at each other again (we couldn't seem to stop doing that…) and then around us as we realized what was happening.

The last two prisoners were stirring.


	2. Chapter 2

_______________Evelyn's Point of View_______________

Darkness was all there was. No conscious thoughts in my head or around me, just an overwhelming black. I tried to rationalize, to think, but I couldn't. I had finally found what had been taunting me for the past year. The pestilence of the city had overtaken me. I was dead.

Slowly my senses returned me, one by one. The smell of mold and decaying plant life filled my nose. The sensation of moisture was everywhere on my body permeating my skin. All of this made no sense in my slowly awakening mind. Death was wet, cold, and smelled like a dense forest after a heavy rain?

This had to be the after life; there was no other explanation, especially after I opened my ears. The sound of voices mingled with the air. I had been alone in my last earthly memory, of that much I was sure. The dialogue around me was too soft for me to comprehend the words, yet they were there. Their tone mixed with the sound of soft cries frightened me. It became clear my location was meant for punishment. I was going to spend eternity seeking penance for my 29 mislead year in the world.

There was nothing to do but open my eyes and see hell. I knew I would have to eventually, I couldn't just remain in my blind ignorance forever. My eyelids opened slowly and then blinked shut. Everything was spinning, even the thoughts in my head. I gave myself a few more seconds and took a deep breath before I tried again.

My blue eyes remained open the second time. There was no spinning or blinding light. In fact, it was dark, not much contrast from having my eyes shut. There was just enough illumination from above for me to make out my surroundings. I saw that I was at the bottom of a long, circular, yet small enclosure made of old looking bricks, some of which had the number 8 on them along with a letter of the alphabet. No fire, no burning, and no demons, just a tiny damp room. So this was hell.

I gazed upon the afterlife in shock; it was not how I imagined it would be. The only thing that was present I might have been expecting were the voices around me. I looked around and was that sounds had faces; drenched, dirty, terrified ones. Their looks were no doubt a sign of my pending fait at the hands of the devil.

There were four of us dammed into the demonic cylinder pit. There was another woman across from me. She had light alburn hair and blue eyes. The look on her face was as if she had just looked upon the devil himself. I wondered why she (or any of us for that matter) had done in our lives to deserve this.

Among us were also two men. The one closest to the other woman was around her age. He had dark blonde hair and green eyes. He looked as if he was trying to keep himself together; strong, yet faltering a bit. The other man still lies face down on the ground. All I could make out was matted mounds of sandy hair. He had yet to discover the wrath that had befallen him.

~________________~

It was only after examining each of my new companions in hell that I realized I was sill on the ground. My unsteady legs began to slowly rise upward away from the pit. This challenge was met with a new sound, one of clinging metal. I looked down and saw my left foot had been shackled to the wall. On my eye's lurch upward from that sight, I caught sight of something else: a tape hanging from my neck.

Everything made sense in that instant. What I should have known all along came crashing down upon me like an epiphany. I knew where I was. It wasn't hell, but it often served as a prelude. I was trapped helplessly awaiting death. From the depths of my throat a scream rose out and filled the air of the enclosure.


	3. Chapter 3

_______________Dyna's Point of View_______________

I jumped a bit when she screamed and looked away, covering my ears with my hands as it echoed. More tears came up and pouring out of my eyes and I didn't even notice.

When she stopped, breathing in and out in the dark enclosure, I removed my hands from my ears and turned slowly to look at her again. My eyes passed over the other man's face along the way. He looked as though he was frightened, but trying not to show it, his eyes wide but chest protruding in that 'nothing can touch me' way. Finally, my eyes met hers.

We appraised each other for many consecutive minutes, eyes roving over every feature, flickering over the smaller details multiple times in order to remember. I knew at once that she was a writer like me.

_'Takes one to know one'_ I thought bitterly. My own writing career had yet to materialize. And lately, I hadn't been much in the spirit for trying very hard. It was ridiculous to waste my time when nothing would ever come of my work whether I had a few weeks or a hundred years to edit, rewrite, edit, and start over again. I was useless and talentless, always had been.

She took in a breath when we'd finished looking at one another, a word forming around her tongue and between her teeth, the edge of it protruding into the silence before she was intrupted.

"Wh-"

A groan came from the other side of the 'prison', our forth and final companion was coming to.

I wished he had something else to wake up to….

_______________Sydney's Point of View_______________

I groaned and reached up to put my hand to my head, which hurt like hell. After a moment of holding it there and wondering why all people thought touching their head would make the pain go way, I took my hand back down and held it before my eyes. I had expected blood somehow when I felt the wet skin, but I realized now that blood was warm and sticky, and my hand was cold and clear.

I pushed myself up and looked around cautiously, not at all sure of what to expect.

Three pale. Wide-eyed faces stared at me as though I were a visitor from a distant planet. Two women and a man

Were they ghosts?

They were certainly still enough, white enough… perfect caricatures of the antagonists in the few horror movies I'd seen or heard of in my time…

No. They were trembling, I realized now, and their expressions of fear. Ghosts would look like that.

For some reason, my eyes were drawn to the other woman, closer to my age for certain, with blue eyes and an angelic face that still managed to be beautiful even frightened and framed by disheveled hair.

At last, I had the thought to use man's most useful tool to answer the first of many questions. I spoke.

"Where are we?"

They all looked, first at each other and then back at me. The younger woman shrugged her shoulders; the other two still seemed a bit in shock.

I looked at all three of them in turn. "How long have you been awake?"

The young girl (I was going to have to figure out their names before I went mad) answered first. "About 45 minutes." Her voice quivering, sort of liquid –sounding, as though she were on the verge of tears.

I looked at the other two for answers.

"Only 10 minutes or so." The men answered, his voice defiant and firm, determined for me, or perhaps everyone, not to doubt his lack of fear or eminent concern.

"The same." That was the woman with the angelic face.

I looked down to see a small white tape hanging around my neck. This did not surprise, as I had noticed that the others had identical ironic trinkets.

I picked up the small tape gingerly, it seemed out of place in my large calloused hands, and I felt that the slightest slip-up or wrong move would break it. In thick, black scripts, it read 'Play Me' and beneath that message, the name 'Evelyn'

"Who's Evelyn?" I asked, my eyes on the words and not my companions.

"I am." Without looking, I already knew who the voice belonged to, the angel again.

When I did look up, she was examining her own tape, then her blue eyes met mine again. "Is your name 'Sydney'?"

I nodded slowly, then removed my 'necklace', tossing t gently to her. She caught it and threw the white square inscribed with my name to me. I caught it with ease and could swear I detected a hint of her scent on it. It was intoxicating.

_______________Dyna's Point of View_______________

After watching the two apparently called Evelyn and Sydney exchange tapes. I looked at my own and read the name there.

'Noah'

Looking at the hard-faced man to my far left again, I could not see how such an obviously biblical name would suit him. He seemed so… harsh.

When he noticed me looking, I tossed him my tape and then waited to receive my own.

He read the words on the cassette around his neck and looked up.

"So, you're Dyna."

I nodded, a few pieces of my hair sliding down as though to protect me from his gaze. He held my eyes for a moment, then seemed to break from a reverie and tossed me my assigned small white omen…

_______________Sydney's Point of View_______________

We all had identities now, strange though it was how little difference it made knowing names. Even my own seemed strange and unfamiliar.

"So…" Evelyn said hesitantly, as though she'd known that three pairs of eyes would bore into her fiercely once she opened her mouth. :We have tapes… but no player

The girl called Dyna looked around her, to the left and right and on the floor…. And I looked up.

"…there." I said.

Hanging roughly eleven or twelve feet above our heads was the small grey key to all of… whatever was contained on the tapes.

"So…" Noah said, his eyes upward just like everyone else's "The only way to go… is up."


End file.
